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More groans fill the room and I swear it takes everything in me not to start fucking shooting.
“Look, I’m not trying to start an argument, but can’t you demand the Cruz Cunts stop their strike?” Stretch asks and I shake my head.
“If you’re fucking horny, use your fucking hands. Or each other.” I gesture to my brothers with my gun. “Just pretend your club brother’s asshole is Sasha’s.”
“Hey. My asshole isn’t hairy like you fuckers’.”
Snickers sound around the room, so I holster my gun and eye Sasha. “Go on. Get Rose to Doc.”
She glares at me, but nods, holding Rose tucked into her chest as Rose cradles her hand, tears streaming from her eyes.
This is fucked.
She didn’t deserve that.
“Gunner,” I bark, turning my hard eyes to him. “Go with Sasha and Rose. Find out everything that happened. We need to know every word the Reapers said to her. Where they were. How many there were, and if she picked up any names.”
Gunner nods, shooting me a serious look, and I give him a one-shouldered shrug, because he knows that this isn’t good. He knows how bad things are getting, and if we can’t get another run in and get more cash soon, we are going to need to ask Dante and the Diamond Crew for another fucking hand out.
“I got this,” Gunner mutters as he walks past and slaps a hand on my shoulder.
“Thanks, man,” I say quietly before turning back around to take in the fucking mess.
“Get this room cleaned up,” I yell, stalking across the room toward Zoe. Her eyes widen when she realizes I’m approaching her and she backs up a few steps as I near, holding her hands up in protection.
“Grayson I—” She’s still trembling, and I want to console her, but I can’t right now. Someone has to take charge.
“I don’t want to hear your fucking excuses, Princess. Get this shit cleaned up. I will deal with you later.”
Her pale cheeks tint, but I don’t spare her another look as I turn my sights on my President.
“Let’s go,” I mutter as I pass him, weaving through the tables to step inside his office. His heavy boots are right behind me, and he slams his door shut before flopping onto the tattered old sofa in the corner which I’m pretty sure he’s been sleeping on since he banished Cara.
“The fuck is happening to my club?” he mutters, and I move to the shelf by the door and pour us each a Jack, neat.
“This is what they want,” I rasp before tipping back the amber liquid in one shot and pouring myself another.
“Who? The Reapers?”
Nodding, I turn and carry the two glasses across the room, handing one to Rocco.
“It seems to be their M.O.,” I mutter. “First, they started on our community, doing stuff to show we can’t protect them. Then they hit us directly by stealing from us. And everything else after is about making us weak. They are trying to rock our foundations. Trying to create a divide amongst us.”
“What about your princess? They can’t be linked to her behavior.”
I flop down in the seat behind Rocco’s desk and nod.
“Nope. That’s all my doing.” I shake my head on a sigh. “She has me twisted in fucking knots.”
Rocco chuckles quietly. “Yeah. I know that feeling.”
We fall silent then, sipping on our Jack, lost in our heads.
I’d like to think that what Zoe has done is a shock, but it’s not. She’s determined to fuck with me, which I guess is understandable considering how I tormented her in the beginning. She was a fun plaything, that’s for sure.
“I need to get laid.” Rocco growls a few minutes later, and I shoot a surprised glance his way.
“You want me discreetly to ask one of the women to come in? I know you’ve never gone there with them, but I’m sure Sasha or even Alana will keep quiet about it if you just need a release.”
